"I was your late wife," Eliza corrected him coldly, her eyes void of any warmth.
"A wife, late or not, is still a wife!" Casper's voice quivered slightly, almost imperceptibly. "As long as our marriage certificate exists, you will always be my wife, Eliza. You..."
He felt like he was losing his mind. The more he tried to suppress his anger, the more it threatened to explode.
Jealousy.
Yes, it was jealousy.
Jealousy that twisted his features beyond recognition.
Before he could finish, Eliza cut him off. "Casper, stop fooling yourself. It's over between us. That marriage certificate is nothing but a piece of trash now."
She glanced at his face with indifference, gently pulling her arm free and continuing inside.
Casper stood in the rain and kicked the cobblestone pavement in frustration. His anger was quickly replaced by a deep sense of helplessness.
"Sir, you're soaked. Would you like me to draw you a bath?" The servant, seeing Casper drenched from the rain, hurried over with concern.
Casper’s face was livid; without a word, he stormed upstairs.
Eliza had completely ignored him. If Casper lashed out at her again, she would turn around and leave without hesitation.
"Draw me a bath. I need a bath," he ordered, his expression stern.
Eliza didn’t respond, but she got up and went to the bathroom anyway. She gently pressed the faucet, and warm water began to flow, gradually filling the tub. She carefully adjusted the temperature, making sure it was just right.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: His Destructive, Toxic Love